


The Cross

by Catherine256



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Love, Scene from S4EP1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherine256/pseuds/Catherine256
Summary: His familiar reassuring voice makes her slowly turn around before letting out a gut-wrenching exhale, meeting his stare with her miserably glassy eyes.
Relationships: Claire Browne/Neil Melendez
Comments: 24
Kudos: 35





	The Cross

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I ended up watching the first episode of season 4, crying and feeling miserable because of what they did to all the characters. What can I say? I guess, Melendez was the one who brings the group together and it felt right. Now it’s wrong, and uncomfortable, and hurtful. And also *SPOILER ALERT* they bring Neil’s ghost to make everyone even more mournful about his death. I’m done. The only place, I guess, where we can make what was right to the characters, is here.
> 
> So, this is the scene that I rewrote as I think it should be. Maybe, someone needs it, maybe someone doesn’t, but this quick story is just a reminder of the one simple thing – we can create our own world for the most wanted couple. And we already have started, together.
> 
> I’m grateful to everyone who’ll read the story and maybe find comfort in it.
> 
> Please, stay safe, wear your mask and don’t forget to say your loved ones about your feelings:)

“Things will be okay, Claire.”

His familiar reassuring voice makes her slowly turn around before letting out a gut-wrenching exhale, meeting his stare with her miserably glassy eyes. This small storage room feels too small to fit all of her endless emotions and too huge to not fall apart right away.

Staring at him, who’s steady but exhausted especially under this barely lighting up lamp, with her eyes wide open, she stays here in less than seven feet away from his firm body and it is the hardest thing to do, not when the whole world seemed like squeezing her tight before smashing. But the guilt comes down to her shoulders and makes her desire to make even a step closer fade.

“Didn’t hear you coming,” she almost breaks down but swallows hard, feeling her nails sticks into the palm of her own.

Her sorrowful green eyes glances around again only to find her late patient’s stuff, but her blurry gaze is not allowing her to. The whole place is an organized mess. All these patients’ packages and boxes around her only remind of those who died – even though there’re a lot of things that belongs to living – and left last pieces of themselves in things, locked up without any chance to get away from here in the next months, until the pandemic hopefully will end. She reaches out to lean to the closest shelf, feeling like it should’ve just ended and her whole life as well. Her growing anxiety almost swipes her off her feet, but her hand keeps holding this cold peace of shelf in anticipation of getting back together and escaping from the swamp of angst that has been drawn her in rapidly.

“Claire, you did everything you could.”

But his simple words and his soft expression makes her only sigh hardly, feeling her hands trembling. And that’s all she needs to crack up.

“That’s the point. I couldn’t do anything about this damn virus, I couldn’t do anything to safe people’s lives and yeah, what I _could_ do is watching them die after all,” her bottom lip quivers and she blinks more often as the tracks of her tears finally reaches her seemed colorless cheeks. “I should’ve let this woman see her mother before she...”

“You couldn’t, and it’s not your fault,” he steps closer and she can tell he’s calculating his actions to understand if she needs him right now.

But the moment his body emerges from the blur of her tears and makes its way to stand just a few inches away from her, she reaches out her hand to squeeze his and leans her head to his chest, damping his white crisp shirt but not feeling guilty about it. And that’s something.

“I couldn’t do anything. I can’t do anything,” she whispers in the surface of his chest as his arms close around her restless figure to bring her more in his space and make it their space. “Why does it feel like the end of me every time?”

“Because you’re always here for your patients, always invested in their cases and their lives. And even though sometimes it ends with your patients dying, there are still people who survived because of you, and your medical skills, and your compassion,” he rests his cheek against the crown of her head, feeling her soft curls tickling his skin, closing his eyes as he speaks and breathing hard when her body shivering and flinching in attempts to stop her quiet crying.

“I feel terrible, because I’m helpless and useless,” her words vibrate in their bubble and feel too warm for its coldness against him.

“Me too. But that doesn’t mean we actually are,” his voice lulls her out of the dark that felt like nothing and everything at the moment, and he keeps talking, holding her closer and feeling her pounding heart against his body. “You don’t even know how great you are, how strong you are. And whilst today we’re falling down, maybe tomorrow or the day after tomorrow it’s gonna be takeoff again. For all the people who’s suffering now.”

Her hands grips his shirt on the back tightly in fear of losing his soothing presence, but he stays here, with her in his arms. The silent is ruined again by her deep breath as she tries to calm down, feeling his overwhelming support.

“How’s your patient?”

“As fine as he can be with the help of ventilator,” he says hopelessly and feels her face raises up only to bury it in the crook of his neck, placing a mild kiss on the exposed skin she can reach.

“I am sorry, Neil,” she knows how actually tough it is for him to be overboard because of the unknown. “How are you feeling?”

His sigh makes her run her hand up and down his back, when she hears his “awful” and feels his tense body starting relax under her touch. Neil breathes her in and carefully finds her hand, takes it from around him to his lips and leaves a soft kiss, glad to feel her warmth and make her smile even slightly.

Claire lifts her full of tears face to gaze at him, “The only thing that makes it less horrible is you, us together against the world and circumstances.”

He lets out a small exhale and nods, closing his eyes for a moment in pleasure to be with her in this rough time, just sharing all the sorrows in each other’s embrace and finally feel more like themselves again. And this storage room doesn’t seem so dreadful and cold anymore. As long as they continue to hold each other.

“Us together... that’s everything I ever needed,” he smiles, still having this longing look in his eyes and this one thought on his mind about how lucky he is to be alive, safe, and loved by the most understanding woman, who trusts him with her feelings and hopes to be enough for him. And she is. “Let me take you home, love,” he tilts his head, staring into her beautiful green eyes and caressing her cheekbone gently.

Claire suddenly remembers why she came here in the first place and sighs, drawing her eyebrows together, “Yeah, I just... have to find something here.”

She comes out of his embrace carefully and, wiping tears of her cheeks, looks for the package with the right name on it.

“Claire...”

“I know, it’s breaking the rules,” her eyeroll makes it clear that she’s gonna do what she’d planned anyway. He just wants to tell her something else, but she takes new gloves out of her pocket and puts them on, relaxing him with her mindfulness. In all those packages she finally finds the right one, with patient’s clothes and jewelry, laying on the top as she notices when it’s open.

There it is. Silver feminine crucifix, holding on the elegant necklace, shining brightly under the light and reflexing on her blue scrub. Her patient must’ve been loved and cared about it so much to keep it polished till the end. She carefully takes it out and brings the package back on its place before putting the necklace on one of the shelf, changing her gloves and clean the cross with her sanitizer. When all of this done, she gets rid of gloves and squeezes cross carefully in her hand.

Neil only exhales at her heartwarming gaze that asks him for permission to give it to the deceased patient’s daughter, and he points to the door quickly, smiling softly at her desire to make at least this gesture that’s so important to that woman.

And she runs out as fast as she can, knowing the woman should be waiting outside. The nightly cold wind crashes against her still warm with lingering feeling of Neil’s touch skin and starts the goosebumps as she breathes the fresh air deeply, catching on it after the quick run and looking around for the person she needed. And she comes closer, still staying in the distance, as Claire nods simply, place the cross on the ground carefully and steps back, giving the woman space to raise this so wanted item that always will be a reminder of her late mother. She sighs, closing her eyes as the pleasant metal ends up in her hand, and whispers her “thank you” that wind carries away but Claire understands everything.

She doesn’t need a lot of time to change in her casual clothes, grab her things and leave the hospital, acknowledging that Neil’s waiting for her in the parking lot, tired but grateful to be with someone in the most challenging moment of all people’s lives. That’s enough for him to grin, seeing her looking at him with this exhausted smile.

They get in the car to start their way home finally, after this long day as the others since the whole pandemic, “Everything okay?” He asks, noticing that sad nostalgic look in her eyes.

“Yes,” she nods, knowing that they both remember the day he was ready to die and she gave him her cross, that he now, after eventually surviving for what he’s grateful to the surgical team, especially Claire, and also his faith, keeps with him just as a reminder of what really matters.

“Maybe we’d take out something special for dinner?” Neil plays with her fingers subconsciously, holding her hand in his as the left one keeps control the wheel.

Her thumb strokes his palm lightly as she gives him her mere gaze, “I don’t need anything special, I already have you,” she catches his eyes full of awe for her and keeps herself from kissing his lips and taking all his attention from the road with this bold move. “Maybe we can make something and then cuddle in bed, eating dinner and watching this movie you wanted to for so long?” She suggests, making him chuckle.

“You mean, I can cook and you can distract me with talking, kissing and hugging?” She sighs and open her mouth to this remark, but looks amused.

“I’ll also cut vegetables and put everything on plates,” she defends herself and he lifts her hand to kiss it.

“I’d love to,” he finally says, leaving the day behind them as the car keeps going.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you like or not about this work? I’ll appreciate all your comments:)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
